


In Blue

by ErnestScrivener



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Denial of Feelings, First Time, Hey! I'm Shedding Here!, Light Angst, M/M, Naga Crowley (Good Omens), ambiguous fingering, the inherent eroticism of reptilian exfoliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24396256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErnestScrivener/pseuds/ErnestScrivener
Summary: Aziraphale walks in on Crowley trying to shed, snake-style, in his bathtub. He offers to help, and ends up helping very intimately.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 121
Collections: Name That Author Round 3: After Dark





	In Blue

“It’s been _five hours_ , Crowley! When you asked to use my bathtub, I assumed you were going to _bathe_ , not embark on four generations of some deranged aquacultural experiment or whatever it is you’ve been—” 

Aziraphale stopped. There was the particular shocked silence that occurs after opening a door to the wholly unexpected. 

The bathroom was hot and half-hidden in steam clouds, but there was no mistaking the figure couched in the eucalyptus-scented mist. From one end of the antique bathtub emerged Crowley, naked to the waist, and from the other ran a long, shining black snake’s tail. It looped and curled on the wet tile like a flourish of ink on an intimate letter.

“ _Trying to shed here, angel._ ”

“Sorry, dear, I didn’t realize you were—indisposed.”

Crowley snorted. The tail wriggled back and forth. “That’s what we’re calling this little crisis of species?”

“—also I thought you had clothes on.”

“What? That what you’re so—? Aziraphale, look, you can put each of your ten thousand bloody eyes on my _skin_ , I just— my scales look awful when I’m shedding,” Crowley said sheepishly. “Let a demon have his bit of vanity, OK? S’my highest-scoring deadly sin.”

The invitation to all ten thousand of his eyes echoed uselessly in Aziraphale’s brain, which seemed to be entirely composed of pleasant fizzing. He loosened his necktie in the heat of the drifting steam.

Crowley stared at the newly revealed patch of throat. “Actually, it’s tied for best sin—let’s not go into the other one.” 

He thumbed at a dull, scaled patch of his stomach and it lifted away, revealing gleaming, glossy red, like polished apple skin, or lips new-bitten. It occurred to Aziraphale that perhaps he ought to be disgusted, but he only felt dizzy, and rather too warm.

“So that’s...easier with hands, is it then?” 

“Plus I can play _Candy Crush_ when I get bored.”

A moment of surging madness. “I could help,” Aziraphale said. “If you wanted.”

Crowley appeared to take an enormous gulp of nothing, then replied, “Hnnyeah. Sure.”

Aziraphale knelt and brushed a hand against Crowley’s belly, watching the rise and fall of ribs and the glint of scales at his touch. Part of him, the part that wore a halo and wings with more pride than doubt, was panicking as Crowley closed his eyes and his tail undulated in what looked suspiciously like pleasure.

“That’s nice,” Crowley muttered. “I mean, it’s helpful.”

Aziraphale nodded, transfixed, and stroked skin to scales. _This is merely kindness,_ he thought, _to a not-quite-fellow creature._ His hands ever-so-gently sloughed dullness from brilliance. Crowley gave a hazy sigh, and Aziraphale plunged his hand below the surface. A few inches more, lower and lower and lower...

He felt something soft and strange; Crowley made a noise like a hiss in reverse. Thin fingers seized a plump wrist.

“Angel that’s—ah, fffuck.”

“Oh! Very sorry, dear.”

The fingers didn’t release him.

“Unless you’d like—all this as well?” It was like and unlike the voice of an angel, a whispered _don’t be afraid_.

“ _Please_ , angel.” 

Aziraphale’s fingers slid further.

Crowley didn’t exhale as he began to twitch in the warm water. Aziraphale continued to breathe, as if to cover the soft squelch that echoed on the porcelain like an accusation.

“Always...nnhhh...wanted you,” Crowley gasped. The end of his tail coiled around Aziraphale’s ankle, reverent and blasphemous upon the delicate skin. The smell of sex mingled uneasily with the scent of soap.

“Don’t say that,” Aziraphale murmured. Then, softer, “Not aloud.” 

Crowley let out a muffled cry as the loops of him convulsed, splashing. With infinite care, Aziraphale withdrew his hand.

Crowley laughed weakly .

“Pretty unholy water, this. Well-steeped in demon.” His eyes were idol-gold, bright and soft at once. “You should wash that, angel.”

The immensity of what they’d done filled Aziraphale’s lungs and the corners of his eyes. With a miracle, his flesh was clean again, absolved. 

But he would always know the stain was there.

**Author's Note:**

> A snake being "in blue" refers to the imminent shedding of its outermost layer of skin, named for the cloudy blue color that the scales over the eyes appear to become just before shedding occurs.


End file.
